


Team

by The_Plaid_Slytherin



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Canon - Serving on Columbia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-10
Updated: 2014-07-10
Packaged: 2018-02-08 06:58:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1931085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Plaid_Slytherin/pseuds/The_Plaid_Slytherin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An accident puts things in perspective for Bill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Team

"War games, huh?" Saul zipped his flight suit back up. "You got the roster?" 

Bill smirked as he buttoned his jacket. "You think frakking the XO's gonna give you an advantage?" 

"No," said Saul, though he clearly did. "I was just curious if the powers-that-be had decided the roster."

"We have," Bill allowed. He moved to his desk and attempted to casually hide a folder in his drawer. "You'll find out tomorrow like everyone else."

Saul pouted and Bill was proud of himself for not falling for it. Instead, he kissed the offending lips and brushed Saul's hair back from his forehead. "Good hunting, Captain."

**

Saul sniffed indignantly when he saw the duty roster. Defense squad? He supposed frakking the XO really didn't get you anywhere.

"Come on, men," he announced to his squad. "Let's show those toasters what the Vigilantes are made of." 

**

Bill missed being a pilot. He liked being XO, enjoyed the idea of rising up the command ladder, but, truth be told, he missed the rush of running to his Viper, the excitement of shooting out of that launch tube. Plus, sometimes those Colonel's pins just made him feel old and useless. 

"Vipers are away," the comms officer reported. "Vigilantes." 

"Good," Bill said. He trusted Saul—he was one of their (in Bill's mind, the) best pilots and he had combat experience. It was a routine op Saul had done hundreds of times, but every time Saul went up alone (and if Bill wasn't with him, he might as well be alone, no matter how many men he had with him), he worried.

He listened to the radio chatter, an eye on the commander. For one thing, he couldn't let his biases show. It was probably already obvious to anyone who paid attention that Bill had a particular favorite. He didn't want either of their careers damaged by the knowledge of how deep that went becoming public.

But he knew he didn't have to worry about Saul's skills, especially when they were using practice ammo. At least, thought Bill, it gave Saul a chance to show off in front of the brass, as he zipped around making kills. Usually, the more experienced pilots were cast as Cylons, but Bill had stuck Saul's mostly-green squadron in the defense role. Saul could use the good performance review.

Then, a familiar voice came over the wireless. "Krypter, krypter, krypter, _Columbia_ , I'm hit." 

Bill jerked to attention. He grabbed the mic. "Jinx! Can you make the landing?" 

"Negative. Going to eject." And then transmission from Saul's Viper cut out and it blinked out of DRADIS. 

"Get a Raptor on him!" Bill snapped, not bothering to try to keep the emotion out of his voice. "Did he make it?" 

His heart pounded, as the Raptor pilot reported they had eyes on him, and then, finally, after an eternity, that they had him. As soon as he knew that, Bill tore out of CIC, headed for the hangar deck, not even looking back at the CO. 

Saul was just stepping off the Raptor when Bill arrived and he'd pulled him into a hug before he even had his helmet off.

"What was that? What happened?" Bill asked, as a deckhand managed to get in between them to get the helmet off. 

"I hit some debris, Bill; it was nothing." Cocky Saul was trying to laugh it off, but Bill could see the fear in his eyes.

"I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you," Bill whispered.

"I know, Bill, I'm sorry," Saul replied. "But we're kinda busy." He stepped back and Bill felt a rush of heat to his face, glad he didn't blush easily. Now, with even a few seconds' distance, he could see how silly he'd looked, throwing himself at Saul. He glanced around. The crew was trying not to look like they were staring.

Bill stalked away, pretending to look like the detached XO, but inside, he couldn't wait until he could touch Saul again.

**

It was hours later before he got him alone. Saul went to sickbay to get checked out by the doc. Then, he made his report to the CO. By the time he let himself into Bill's quarters, he looked exhausted.

"Sit down," Bill encouraged him. He eased Saul's already-unbuttoned fatigue jacket off his shoulders and began rubbing them when he'd sat on the couch. "Rest."

"Sorry for scaring you, Bill," Saul said. "Didn't mean for you to go to pieces like that."

Bill kissed his shoulder. "It was an accident. And I was scared because I love you." He embraced Saul from behind. "And no pins are going to get in the way of that."

Saul turned to look at him. "You sure?" 

"Absolutely." The next kiss had some heat to it, the best way he knew to show Saul he meant it. Saul turned in his arms, kneeling on the couch to get better leverage to kiss Bill senseless. He wished they didn't have to sneak around. He liked serving with Saul, but sometimes he fantasized about something more, like having Saul's picture—Saul's shirtless pyramid picture—in his locker instead of his bottom drawer. All he could do now, though, was keep Saul serving with him.

That was why he'd help him with work—not out of favoritism, but out of seeing the look on his face, the way it lit up when he'd made his first landing since reinstatement, the way he'd danced Bill around the pilots' duty locker before flipping him over the table and frakking him senseless.

Bill was going much slower tonight, moving Saul to the bed and taking his time. He deserved to be kissed all over, to have his raw sexiness appreciated. 

"You're clingy today," Saul remarked, as Bill was lavishing kisses on his sternum. 

Bill looked up at him, brushing his thumb over the stubbly cheek. "I just love you." He kissed him.

"Not slowing you down, am I?" There was concern in his hazel eyes. "You know, if they think we're sleeping together." 

"We are sleeping together, babe."

"That's not what I meant." Saul shifted under him, but Bill had him pinned. 

"Saul, I want to spend my life with you. If that means my career finishes on some dingy old bucket, then my career finishes on some dingy old bucket." He eased a slick finger inside Saul "That is, if you don't mind getting frakked on some dingy old bucket," he said, teasing him. 

Saul lifted his hips to give Bill a better angle. "I love getting frakked on dingy old buckets." He leaned in close to Bill's ear. "And shiny new battlestars, too." 

Bill chuckled. "Well, I can oblige." He was always careful getting Saul ready, perhaps a little too careful as Saul pushed impatiently against him, eager for Bill inside to be inside him. When they were like this, when they were moving together, Bill could forget their difference in rank, that he couldn't always protect Saul. Saul was here, muscles rippling under Bill's touch, each move he made sending waves of pleasure through him. Bill was happy to let it last a long time after today, and they didn't speak until they were curled up, side by side. 

"Thanks," Saul muttered. 

Bill stroked his shaggy red hair fondly. "For what?"

Saul turned. "For everything. Putting up with me."

"I don't put up with you, Saul. We're a team." 

All Saul did was smile.


End file.
